


dear barry

by castielfalls



Series: Letters [1]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Supergirl (TV 2015), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Eventually realizing feelings, Failed Suicide Attempt, M/M, slow burn?, wait for the ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 12:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13124217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielfalls/pseuds/castielfalls
Summary: Oliver writes a series of letters to his dead friend and comes to the realization of certain things.





	dear barry

**Author's Note:**

> Korean translation by coralreef - http://xp816.tistory.com/6

Dear Barry,

          Caitlin said writing a letter would serve as some sort of closure. I don’t believe her but I’ll write one anyway. It makes me feel like these words will get somewhere.

          So hello again. It has officially been one day since you died. It still doesn’t feel real.

          Felicity has been crying non-stop all day and Diggle just couldn’t work, so we decided to take a break as a team. I’m in S.T.A.R Labs right now —  the cortex, to be specific — with Cisco and Harry. They look terrible, I thought you would like to know. They haven’t slept, I think. Cisco looks like he has no more purpose, Harry looks like he’d lost a son and Caitlin didn’t turn up to work. I asked Felicity to come over, watch Caitlin. 

          Henry, Joe and Iris. I wish I knew how to make them feel better. Joe told me Iris won’t get out of your bed because it smelled like you. I went over to your place earlier today. Your forgotten cup of coffee had gone cold. I brewed you a new cup before I realized you weren’t here to drink it and now that cup’s cold too. Henry is absolutely wrecked, but he got permission to leave prison for a while to attend your funeral. 

          Funeral. It doesn’t sound right.

          You don’t deserve this.

          Cisco looks like he’s about to freak out again, I should go.

Your friend,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          The service is going to start soon and I hate where I’m sitting. I have a clear view of your framed photograph and your smile is just making saying goodbye harder. 

          I don’t think I’ve ever seen our friends so sad. Thea and Roy are attending too. They wanted to thank you for always believing in me and I want to thank you for that too. Felicity,  Iris and Caitlin have been sticking together all day. Kara is with me at the moment. She came over to say goodbye too and she can’t stop looking at your photo. Henry and Joe are sitting together but neither of them are saying a word. I left them alone. They need to grieve.

          We all need to grieve.

          They’re starting eulogies. I should go. Henry’s up first, then Joe and Iris, followed by me.

          Henry’s getting up, I should go.

Your friend,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I’ve been staring at your tombstone for so long. Kara’s here too, she can’t bear to leave either. Henry has been brought back to Iron Heights, Joe forced Iris to go back home with him because it started to rain and they can’t stay here forever. It won’t bring you back.

          I know it won’t bring you back, so why am I still standing here? Reading your name over and over again. Bartholomew Henry Allen. Nothing we do will bring you back.

          It’s entirely useless that I’m standing here, but I am. I can’t seem to move, your engraved name on that stone was keeping me here.

          You’ve pulled so many miracles since the day I met you, so could you do this for me please? One more miracle.

          Don’t be dead.

          Just stop it.

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          It’s been a week now. I don’t think I’ve realized how much of an impact your presence made on my life, because now I can’t seem to have the will to lift my quiver and do my job. I know it’s important that I keep my city safe and now I have yours to defend as well until Central finds a new hero. I know it’s important, but I just can’t.

          I’m too tired. 

          I can’t get up and I don’t have the strength to pick up the phone when Felicity and Diggle call me. I only have the strength to write these fucking letters that won’t ever get anywhere because you aren’t here to collect them anymore.

          I’m sorry for sounding rude, I’m just tired.

Please come back,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          It’s the first time I’ve been in my office since your passing. Isabel hasn’t come to provoke me all morning and I suspect Felicity’s told her to lay off. I’m grateful for that.

          Tell me how to stop looking out my window, because I can’t shake the feeling that when I look out, I’ll see a streak of red, _your_ streak of red, flying through the streets of my city.

          Your name’s hit the papers all week. Well, the Flash’s name. Yours was in the Central City obituary. I stopped reading newspapers because I can’t look at another article or obituary reading ‘the Flash’ or ‘Barry Allen’. I wish you were still here. I miss my friend.

Tired,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I gave up being the Green Arrow today. Diggle is taking over the uniform. Roy and Thea are continuing being Arsenal and Speedy. I believe the city will be in good hands. They’re strong enough and can protect Starling without me. 

          Central will be fine too. Apparently, Cisco and Wally have powers now. Wally’s a speedster just like you and his costume looks like yours. I can’t look at him whenever he’s in costume. Cisco gets visions and he’s practicing making portals to other places. I can imagine you saying it’s cool, and I agree with you.

          For now, I’m laying low. I don’t really remember the last time I’ve picked up the phone or answered the door. Time doesn’t seem to move.

          Then again, I never notice time anymore.

Resigned,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          It’s been two months and somehow, I’m still grieving.

          The world has moved on. Starling doesn’t notice that the new Green Arrow behaves differently or that Speedy is a little more afraid of getting hurt on the battlefield now (What with her useless brother already feeling down, right?) and Central has long forgotten about the Flash and instead look up to the Vibe and Kid Flash.

          It’s so disgusting, how everyone has the nerve to just move on when they should still be mourning you.

          Everyone smiling when Wally speeds around the city in your uniform, wearing your colors. It’s almost irritating at this point. I don’t hate Wally, someone had to step up after your death, after all. But I can’t but feel that way. I lost my best friend and the world has moved on while I remain in the past.

Bitter,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I don’t remember the last time I’ve smiled. I think it was with you, but I just don’t recall. It’s been so long.

          Thea has been trying to reach me, turning up at my door frequently. I never answer.

          It’s my name on the newspapers now. ‘Oliver Queen Vanishes’, ‘Is Oliver Queen Dead?’, ‘Where Is Oliver Queen?’.

          Where am I indeed. I don’t feel alive but this doesn’t feel like heaven. Then, it doesn’t really feel like hell either. Perhaps somewhere in the middle. Purgatory.

Meet me there,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          Your team’s starting to worry about me now, it's been five months. Cisco and Caitlin make an effort to come over, but I don’t answer them. Then Joe and Iris turned up at my door but they won’t take my silence for an answer. Pretty sure Joe’s breaking down my door is illegal, but he thought I was dead and maybe I was, I can’t be sure.

          He and Iris sat me down to talk. Joe said even though I miss you, that doesn’t mean I can shut everyone else out to mourn. They don’t get it, they never do. It wasn’t like I was actively trying to shut people out, it was just that it got too exhausting to let them in.

          Iris suggested going to therapy. I told her I would consider it, but of course I won’t go. I can’t even get out of my house, why would I go for weekly therapy sessions?

          Iris said she expects me to call her at least once a week so she knows I’m still around. I said I would. Another thing I lied to her about.

          I appreciate their care, but their care isn’t yours.

Going back to sleep,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I hate to say this, but I’m scared. I don’t recall your voice or laugh anymore.

          I’ve forgotten how you say my name and how you laugh. I wish the teams and I took videos with you, because I have nothing to remember your voice with.

          I feel like I’ve failed you because I can’t remember. It's only been six months.

          I’m sorry, Barry.

Drained,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I haven’t written to you in a month and I’m sorry. I was in hospital.

          I couldn’t take the pain. I’ve lost so many people in my life. Laurel, Sara, Tommy, my parents, my friends, you. What’s stopping me from adding myself to the list of people I’ve lost?

          Caitlin has been monitoring my recovery but I can’t bring myself to tell her what happened. She told me to write it to you if it made things easier, so I’m telling you now. She’ll read this letter later.

          Really, it’s my mistake for being a drunken mess that night and leaving the razor so openly in the sink instead of throwing it out like a normal person. Some would say it was lucky that I hadn’t texted Iris in two weeks and she had coincidentally decided to drop by the night it happened. If she didn’t turn up, I would have died.

          The blood on my bathroom floor must have dried by now. When I can finally go home, it’s going to have that iron smell. It’s going to be so hard to clean.

          I’m a fucking failure. Everything I do, I fail. I can’t protect my city, I can’t save my family and friends, I forget your voice after only six months and I can’t even kill myself right.

          I’m so sorry.

          I just want to go home. I hate it here in this fucking lab, everything reminds me of you. Wally’s damn suit where yours used to be. I feel the urge to tear it off and put yours back.

          I’m just so angry and so tired.

          I just want it to stop.

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          Caitlin won’t let me go home. She says she, Cisco, Iris and Thea will take turns talking to me regularly to try to find out how to get me out of my ‘negative mindset’.

          They try anyway. Asking me how I’ve been like they don’t know how wrecked I’ve been. I don’t answer because I know they know. 

          Thea tells me she misses me. I shrug.

          Cisco tells me nobody can be the Green Arrow but me. I scoff but don’t say anything.

          Caitlin tells me that everyone misses having me around. I reject the idea non-verbally.

          Iris tells me, “I know you’re hurting, Oliver. I love Barry too and I miss him every day, but this isn’t healthy grieving. You have to talk to us again.” I asked her what use is talking if you weren’t coming back. She didn't have an answer.

          Caitlin puts me under suicide watch and they take turns watching me. Iris is on her shift now, watching me write this letter to you. 

          Writing to you in front of her feels like my privacy is being broken into, like the situation is a little too intimate, so I’m stopping the letter here today.

Invaded,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          It’s been a week and Caitlin took me off of suicide watch. Joe and Iris are driving me home as I’m writing this so forgive me if the words are shaky. My body has more scars than before, but I don’t mind. It’s not like the ones from the island were any better than the ones from the razor.

          Iris said she didn’t feel safe leaving me here alone, worried that I was going to try to end it all again. Joe suggested she stay with me, just for a couple of days until she felt like it was okay to leave me alone. I said there was no need, but of course Iris doesn’t care and she takes up residence in the guest room. There are two beds in that room, one of which I remember you love. I told her to not touch that one. That bed’s yours.

          It’s still yours. Just come back.

Desperate,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          Iris has been nothing but patient with me and I feel bad for snapping at her every time she asks me if I’m doing fine. I obviously wasn’t and I was getting tired of hearing that question.

          When she leaves the house to go to work, I found out after digging around that you had accidentally left a shirt over at my place from the time you and Kara stayed over in the guest room for our night out. It’s your S.T.A.R Labs sweater and it smells just like you and feels just as comforting as you. 

          Your bed feels welcoming and for the first time since you died, I manage to sleep, wearing your sweater and lying in your bed. Your shirt is a little small on me and the bed isn’t as worn down as mine because of the lack of use, but it still puts me to sleep.

          Iris finds me later and says she needs to talk to me, but she’ll talk after we have dinner. She’s making us pasta, I think. I wish you could have dinner with me again.

          I’ll write to you again later. Dinner’s ready.

Thanks for helping me sleep,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry, 

          Iris talked to me about you. She spent an hour telling me anything about you that she thought I would like to hear about. Like the time your family’s car broke down on the way to a science fair and the three of you spent the day eating ice cream at a diner instead. The times you won science fairs. When you lost your graduation cap two hours before graduation so you and her went around campus trying to find it. Every time you tried showing her a cool experiment you learnt at school and how embarrassed you got when Joe caught you.

          She also told me what you said about me.

          She said you called me a hero. I already know that you (somehow) think that about me, so that isn’t what caught my attention. She said you liked me.

          She didn’t specify. As a friend? As a vigilante/hero? As something more than a friend? As a mentor? She doesn’t answer me when I ask, so here I am writing to you again.

          What did she mean?

          Let me know.

Confused,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          It’s Iris’ last day here today. She thought it was okay to finally leave me alone. She talked to me again, before Joe arrived to pick her up.

          We talked about you, yet again.

          It wasn’t another trip down memory lane this time. We talked about how we felt about you and about losing you.

          She told me something and I can’t stop thinking about it. I’m not sure if I can even write it down. She left about an hour ago but my hand just can’t write it down.

          I’ll tell you another time, maybe.

          I need to think.

We’ll talk soon,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I know it’s been a month since I last wrote in you and I’m sorry.

          I was thinking about you.

          About us.

          You know what Iris said to me? She asked me, “Oliver, it sounds a lot like you love Barry.” Of course I said I do love you, you’re my closest friend. She shook her head and said, “Not that kind of love. You know what I’m talking about.”

          Her words have been running through my mind all month and my memories of you are in my dreams as I slept in your bed. I stopped wearing your sweater because I didn’t want to replace your smell with mine. It’s all I have left of your presence in my house.

          Not that that’s important, because I’ve come to the sinking realization that I do love you, Barry.

          In the way Iris implies.

          But it’s not like it fucking matters anyway. It doesn’t matter if I realized anything or not, because you aren’t here. 

Frustrated,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          Iris visited today to check up on me since she last saw me a month and a week ago. She finally specified what she meant when she said you liked me.

          She left half an hour ago. My living room is a mess.

          I wish on every fallen belonging on the floor that I had realized sooner.

Regretting everything,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I’m at your grave right now. It’s raining, but I’m sitting under an umbrella because I feel the need to write this in front of you.

          It took me some time, but I’ve come to accept it. Your unconditional support for me and how you trust me so wholeheartedly. Your laugh and voice and smile comes back to me with every time I think about it.

          I do love you.

          But that doesn’t mean it works. 

          It means I can’t live without you, but that doesn’t mean it works.

          I really wish I realized it when you were still alive, because no matter whether you loved me or I love you, this can never go anywhere. I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault.

Love,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          Your grave calls to me at night when I’m wrapped in the covers you slept in. I feel like I hear or see you sometimes, calling my name as if there’s a place for me next to you six feet underground.

          I would be lying if I said I wasn’t tempted to accept the offer, but you aren’t there. Ghosts aren’t real and it’s not really you talking.

          I’m irrational for even considering the thought of ending it again, even a year after your death. Everyone’s moved on entirely. Nobody goes quiet at the mention of your name anymore and Central doesn’t care about the Flash’s disappearing act. I’ve gotten a little better, at least, and Iris and Thea make an effort to bring me out. I see my name hit headlines whenever I pass newsstands but I don’t bother reading the articles.

          Everyone somehow silently comes to the consensus to avoid wearing red in front of me. Nobody in your team even wants to wear black S.T.A.R Labs sweaters because they know you own one that you wore often before you died. It’s a stupid sentiment of their but I appreciate their effort to make me more comfortable with being around the people who used to be around you.

          Despite it being Christmas and everyone trying their best to celebrate and to avoid any thoughts of losing you, I still hear your voice and feel your presence somehow. Calling my name.

          Perhaps I miss you too much to move on.

          Will I ever move on?

Love,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          I’m not sure if I’m going crazy or not, because I’m sure I just saw you standing in my bedroom. All you said was, “I’m here.” 

          I got out of there, made my trip down to S.T.A.R Labs. Caitlin ran tests on me but I was perfectly fine, not going crazy.

          If I’m okay, how am I seeing you?

Love,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Barry,

          If you’re real, if you’re alive…

          It sounds impossible, but I’m willing to give it a shot. I’ve been seeing you around even more, around my house. You never complete your sentence before I freak out and leave the room or you fade out of my vision. All I’ve heard you say is ‘I’m here’, ‘Oliver’, ‘It’s me’ and ‘I’m back’. I’m starting to feel like I should just admit myself into a mental ward, but something tells me this is larger than me.

          So here, after all those impossible happenings in your life, I’m asking you for one more impossible happening. I’m asking you for one more miracle.

          Don’t be dead.

          In case you never read these letters, I’m saying it aloud. Did you hear me?

          I said don’t be dead.

Love,

Oliver

* * *

Dear Oliver,

          I heard you.

Love,

Barry

 


End file.
